1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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